Collide
by ezakk
Summary: It is my weakness, it shouldn’t be, but it is, and not appropriate conduct, nor familial expectations, nor those eyeless, blacksuited men are enough to keep me from it
1. Chapter 1

It is my weakness, it shouldn't be, but it is, and not appropriate conduct, nor familial expectations, nor those eyeless, black-suited men are enough to keep me from it. The Water. Jet black and promising oblivion without sufficient moonlight to reveal its depths, it awaits at midnight. The heating is off by that time, and the simple shock, electric and pure, of cutting into the pool's surface, well, I don't have the luxury of shock or impermanence it seems.

It took some time, surveillance and mental cataloging before I dared make my first journey, leaving from the window on an evening while he was kept at an overseas engagement. Such a thrill! What was so inspirational on that particular night? I'm not certain. It was undoubtedly bitterly cold, and I knew that from the moment my fingers flinched against the icy windowpane. A rising wildness filled my lungs as one foot followed the other, pushing me free from the room – down into the bushes below with a grounding jolt. I was doing it. Though I didn't need to – the guard wouldn't pass by for a further fifteen minutes at least – I moved with the speed of one pursued, bare-footedness silencing my escape. A convenient key-card, noiselessly flashing in my entry to the fitness center. For all my planning and wordless excitement I had forgotten both towel and swimsuit. The evening was too intense, that first time. I swam naked, completely naked to no one but the watching night sky.

To anyone else, to a normal girl of my age it would probably be considered no more or less than a typical teenage eccentricity – swimming at night. Typical eccentricity, however, is not acceptable, not for the new wife of Tokyo's Crown Prince. I only wish I'd known.

H

It was a slow night as usual. Goddam protocol, I was better than half of these goons, post "prerequisite 3 years service" or not! On the night watch I was delegated to the recesses of the camera surveillance hub, accompanied by Yuji, part-classical-studies-undergrad, part video game enthusiast… _all_ chicken-shit. And then there was New-Guy. I wasn't yet aware of the _actual_ name of _N.G._, as I haven't yet met him in his conscious state. Thus far, in the weeks of our joint 'patrol,' he has been fast asleep, and given the less than thrilling task of watching flickering images of the surrounding area of Princess's quarters, neither Yuji nor I have felt compelled to wake him.

And it is stupid. The protection service for the Japanese monarchy, shrouded in mystery as it is, undergoes a training program one might expect of a traditional ninjutsu practioneer. Unlike the honorable traditions of Samurai Warriors, ironic as it is, we are trained to be the worse kind of assassins – well paid ones. With health benefits and company cars, expensive sunglasses and color-coded suits. And on initial description, you'd think that might induce some form of complacency. Not true. Not recently especially.

Things truly have never gone that smoothly. The monarchy is considered by some to be important – a reminder of our past, a link to a heritage of mighty dynasties, of glorious lords, bloody but honorable battles, long before foreigners. But that isn't everyone. The archaic practices and obvious gender inequality of royal tradition has sparked an outcry from a nation attempting to push itself as progressive, successful, and prepared to take on the west… I don't know. For all I know of the Princess, she is perfectly happy being submissive and well dressed. Yeah that makes me sound like a perfect hypocrite as the sole female in the defense division for the Imperial family. Maybe I am. My job is to make to _that_ particular 'submissive royal' doesn't come to any harm. It isn't my job to be concerned with whether it would make a decent political statement to make a martyr of her.

Yuji was picking at his nails with earnest absorption. N.G snored. I glanced over at his screens. I did a double take.

"Did you…?! Yuj!"

"What?"

"Get over here! Where's the next monitor after SG54?"

"Uh…" His head circled, taking in the grainy images. "This… this I think."

"…Jesus." It occurred again. Slowly, imperceptible as a mist, the figure reappeared across the following monitor. "How the fuck did he breach…!? I'm going."

"What!? We should call…"

"Forget them. Too slow. Cover my monitors."

"Tenoh!"

The door slammed behind me. It was the last perceptible noise I made through the corridors, my training had at least taught me that. To be honest, the near sprint was probably unnecessary with the rate the target was moving, _and_ to be honest, that made it all the more sinister. The slow, purposeful progress towards the imperial chambers, that kind of breach didn't happen by accident. That kind of confidence wasn't for an unseasoned criminal.

Following from the level above, watching through windows for traces of the figure, I came upon it within 20 meters of the Crown Prince's sleeping quarters. That was way too close, taking only a moment, I pushed through the window and made the jump. My foot caught the edge of his coat, and, in my ridiculously unrelenting hold, I found myself firmly attached as we fell through into the next room, left hand over his mouth, right at his torso… it wasn't a him. Far too slight. She stopped struggling after a moment. Christ a female assassin even?

Taking my spare second, I moved my grip to her wrists, keeping my knee down to hold her back and eliciting a muffled moan, then spun her over to view the aggressors identity. I had to grimace at my own miscalculation, having no free limb to remove the hood, which had dropped over her eyes.

"I don't suppose I may stand?" She uttered irritably.

"No Darling, you suppose right! Who are you working for?"

"What?"

"_Who_ are you _working_ for?" I was now straddling the target.

"I could ask you the same question."

"You're on _my_ turf. I don't think that's a valid question."

"Even if you work…" She shook her head trying to push back the hood. "For me!?"

"Shit!" I fell back, moving quickly to my knees, forehead to the floor. "Ma'am, I apologize… I thought… Christ…"

"Just get up!" I complied. She was actually quite attractive up close. I was totally fired. She was totally unimpressed.

Wordlessly I watched her ball up her towel, throw it at my chest and, for want of a more feminine term 'huff.'

"I'm hardly going to throw things at someone when they're down." She appeared momentarily to falter in her resolve, lost at my silence. "I guess… we have different takes on combat etiquette…"

"…are you hurt? Should I fetch one of the medical staff?"

"Are you saying I can't survive a minor stumble?"

"No Ma'am."

"Please." She looked away, appearing disappointed. "It's Michiru."

"Uh…" Yeah right, "why are you out of your room?"

"Why are you down here, _you're_ not on perimeter patrol!"

"I'm not…?" Inadvertently at grin pulled at the sides of my mouth. "You've planned all this…!" Etiquette to hell, I couldn't conceivably be employed after this stint.

"How else am I supposed to do as I please?" She stated with utter conviction before melting into a giggle at the immature sound of her own words. "I haven't met you I don't think… I didn't know we had women working in defense…? I would shake your hand, though it seems redundant after our… rather more intimate meeting."

"Tenoh Haruka, former member of the Imperial guard." I shrugged.

"Former…? Oh no. You're not _fired_. I have…" She stepped forward to smooth my hair, which would have seemed sweet, were it not so menacing. "I have some ways I believe I can use this relationship to my advantage."

"Huh?"

"We never met."

"…uh?"

"This never happened."

"O-kay…"

"I suspect your colleagues were watching out for what's next?"

"Probably…"

"Right, I'll have to wait 'til the next cycle passes outside and get back to my room that way."

"Jump out of the window? Are you crazy?"

"Are you crazy jumping down a story, in trying to take me out?"

"_Obviously_."

"So who are you to judge?"

"Fair enough…" I looked at my wrist. "You should probably go _now_."

"Now?"

"They tend to take a break about ten minutes from now, and it happens to be within view of this area."

"_This_ area?"

"Of course! It's _supposed_ to be the place of maximum security."

"Oh…" she was suddenly self-conscious, gathering her towel and strewn possessions. Moving daintily to the window frame. "Haruka?" I went forward incase she needed assistance. "Thank you." She grinned evilly, kissed my cheek and slipped into bushes. Jesus.


	2. Chapter 2

M 

In my room the night breathed through the curtains, revealing moments of a deep sky. I wasn't permitted to leave the curtains open at night. There was a light rain and I wished to feel it on my face. There was a gallery of stars and I desired their glow to fall on my palm. These are merely gentle sensations, and neither are allowed for me. So I remained fixed, bare feet on the cool tatami, still, head raised, waiting for the sky to reappear, if only briefly.

There are things that I knew before marrying my husband, and things I could not have known. Hiroshi was sweet, a good man, even if hesitant and retiring. He _still is_ a good man. But before we were engaged I knew it wasn't love like I had known. I love him still, but even then I knew I could not grow to love him as much as… _oh_, as much as I could. These things I knew.

The Monarchy had expectations about the place of its princess, about the presented face of an age-old line. Marrying into it involved cutting off decidedly from the life I had known. These things I accepted.

When my mother discovered news of our University 'courtship,' she almost wept with pride. What a perfect lady I would be, had become. What a stunning success it was to have offspring suited to fit the role of flawless femininity. Demure, elegant, gracious… and a thousand more words for an empty existence. _That_ I had not expected.

As one of the Imperial family, divorce was unheard of. Being outspoken, or overshadowing your husband did not occur. Embarrassment was not an actuality. Freedom… _Freedom_ was not mine to possess. The bodyguards were the tip of the iceberg, defense of the royal family extended to protection of the public profile – which meant where I was had already been decided. The clothes on my body, the words at my lips were gauged for appropriateness by an external body. _That_ I could not have known.

So, understandably, this night had thrown me. The perfect shock of this woman, this _Tenoh. _I still felt the roughness of her push and the softening of her hands around my waist. They were warm, and beside my face, possessed the scent of sandalwood. It was so dark, I barely had the chance to take her in, and yet that wasn't what struck me. It could certainly be said she was beautiful, but so accustomed to organized beauty as I have become, it was her wildness, her physicality that stayed with me.

H 

The morning descended on me with a volley of electronic double beeps.

_Wake up._

_Get up._

_No Time._

_To act._

_Like the. _

_Wreck that._

_You are._

I slammed the pager. There was no conceivable reason work should be calling in on me, I wasn't due for my shift for a good twelve hours.

Wreck was an understatement, K.O.ed, steam-rolled, and imploded would be more accurate. Of course _had I not_ been so wired over my last nights colossal screw-up, _had I not_ headed for the club after work, _had I not_ lost count of how many drinks it was and _had I not_ only come home two hours ago after 'meeting' that charming girl at the bar, who's name I forget at present… well, things might have been different.

"_SECURITY ISSUE: ASSISTANCE REQUIRED ASAP." _Read the line of text. Bastards. I wasn't getting dressed up for this. Not on my day off.

And so it was, as my unadjusted rear-view mirror unkindly established, I left for work with sunglasses crooked, collar up, and shirt badly buttoned. I _had_ managed to tie my shoelaces, though the head rush was hardly worth it.

"Tenoh! What part of A.S.A.P. don't you recognize?!" Blasted my supervisor at my first footstep into his office.

"The part where I'm _not_ on duty, perhaps?"

"Don't get smart! You have been requested by the occupant of 15.24.0."

"The…? Quit the code words! Why can't _you_ deal with her?!"

"Code is to maintain security! And…" He sighed. "She wanted a woman."

"_Really_?" I felt no need to mask my sarcasm.

"Just Move!"

Two impassive guards waited beside the open door to the room.

"Through here?"

"…"

"I don't see her…?"

"…"

"I'll just go through shall I?"

"…"

Idiots. The door was closed behind me.

"Princess?"

"in here." Came a small voice from beyond the ensuite door.

"What are you… Are you okay?"

"…no."

"Can you open the door?"

"can't get to the door. 's locked"

"Okay, move back."

"i am."

It took one kick to swing it open, slamming loudly against the wall. She screamed. Understandable.

"You're… dressed strangely?"

"_You're_ in a towel, I'm making no apologies."

"But… sunglasses inside?"

"Whatever! Was there a reason for me driving over here to kick down your door?"

"No. I think you might have killed it." She peered over at the door nervously. Madwoman. "Don't look at me like that!"

"Killed… who?"

"Spider."

"A spider?" I approached the door, pulling it back gently. A spider-sized splat on the wall was suitable confirmation of her suspicions.

"It crawled over onto the door knob…" Her hand came up to her mouth nervously while she stared fixedly at the newly acquired wall feature as though it were about to reanimate at any second. "I couldn't get out… all my clothes are in the other room, I couldn't have any of the male guards come in… I've been waiting about half an hour…"

"A spider." I repeated flatly.

"Why are you wearing sunglasses?" she approached suddenly, taking them from my face. I winced at the glare of white ceramics.

"Your face…!"

"It's called a hangover… you don't have to be so extreme."

"You're hurt…" She touched my cheek, I pulled back. It stung. Glancing around at the mirror I saw there was a slight bruise on my cheek.

"Ha." I again touched my cheek and again regretted it."

"Probably result of that tackle that never happened, with that enemy that never existed."

M 

In the morning light, as the steam from the shower settled and dissipated I had to take back my previous judgment. She was beautiful, conventionally and unconventionally. Her sleepy eyes in bright green took in the daylight like a child – overwhelmed and slightly defensive. Her hair was tousled, the color of faded driftwood, gold where it caught the disordered light. In her crumpled shirt, creased trousers, no make up and without careful posture…

She was gorgeous as chaos.

"Your towel is… uh…"

"Oh!" I clasped it back up to my collarbone."


End file.
